~~~ Chapter 13 - Moth of Fire And Flames ~~~

Among the most perplexing things about certain Pokemon abilities is mass creation and removal. Marill can summon more than three times its body weight in water. From whence? Of course, most say “magic,” and no more. As scientists shedding light on the world, we are not convinced that is enough, as not understanding the “catch” to pokemon capabilities can have drastic consequences. Jirachi’s wishes are known through myth to preserve a kind of metaphorical balance. Wish to revive Kyogre, a god of the seas? Groudon, a god of the lands follows. Kyogre and Groudon, objecting to one another's existence, and humanity's general state of noise, in turn awaken the sleeping Rayquaza, a god of the sky. The three returned to life, now asleep among Hoenn and its shores.

Could either Groudon or Kyogre, the two mythical beasts of legend that arose naught six years ago really cover the world with ocean or land? Or are we lucky Rayquaza preserves the balance and forces them to sleep? Pokeballs cannot hold those beasts. Whence does Groudon's lava arrive? Whither do Kyogre's rains return?

Groudon creates mountains on land and islands in the ocean, as if pulling from the center of the earth. Kyogre’s rains and tides unceasing threatened to wash Hoenn off the map. Humanity is immensely lucky the balance was preserved and they turned to their own slumbers. Still, I lay awake with that childish question. For matter creation and removal, what’s the catch? We must learn, as only through this learning can we assert ourselves as the rightful owners of this planet.

- Professor Anton Colress, Mechanics of Pokemon Biology, First Edition

~~~

Lanky walked to the door, his shirt still wet from the rain that was now pelting the windows. Some drops splashed inside. After mashing through the bowl of berries, I sat straighter and the angry morning drooling finally stopped. The last time my muscles had felt that weak, my legs gave out.

Damn. It had just been a few days ago. And without a nest to stay in or a tree to mark, the number of days since I woke up as a bug was already getting fuzzy. It had been at least a month and some change since then. Lanky bent over, picking up the box, closing the door. He pulled out another, smaller box, sitting down on the couch and popping it open inside the Professor's spartan abode. It was like one of those tablets I saw in the window back in train-town. One of the medium-sized ones.

Oh. A pokedex. He’d been given a pokedex! And he’d panicked after I'd moved it.

It would have been left in the rain if I hadn’t brought it in. My phone on regular earth was waterproof, so a pokedex should be as waterproof as my shitty old samsung had been. Maybe the charger wasn’t? He needed to get his act together.

Swadly had turned away from me, finished with his water and food as well. He looked out the window, content to watch the wind pick up, tossing the branches, trees and their leaves around. I joined swadly, mesmerized by the rain fall. I…kind of wanted to go outside in it? A crack, and the grump startled, pulling its leaves tighter together, followed by another slap of thunder striking in the distance, a light pulse passed over our eyes.

The rain drizzled, lulling us into torpor to the tune of the storm rolling by. Lanky picked up the bowls, wiping up the mess we’d made, cleaning up the table and kitchen. His striped shirt had dried. He took a deep breath. I returned to watching the trees sway in the wind and falling rain. The clouds were rolling fast. Or was I just asleep? The slight ripples in the air and flashes of green gave the world, and my feelings a dream-like quality.

Lanky rustled through his box, once more knocking me out of my mood. He got up from his chair, pulling from his box a small backpack and plastic in the shape of a rucksack. Swadly’s underside was sticking out from its blanket. A new one was in order.

How long had it been since we started sitting here? All the clocks in the room were digital, and my eyes weren't able to piece the numbers- the digital lights shifted oddly depending on how I focused on them, and were too blurry to read from afar. Not that it mattered, I still couldn't read. Unova was based on America, right? So they probably spoke English; I couldn’t rule out an actual universe having their own language and number systems, however. Learning to tell the time by a clock… Humans live to the tune of an alarm. The work alarm, the one to remind me to take lunch break, and the one to remind me to punch my time card. Day in. Day out. For faceless companies and businesses. Why can’t I just enjoy being a pokemon? Let Lanky and other humans worry about the stress. Another thunder rolled through the air, startling the swadloon. The blasts of lightning were getting less frequent, though the rain stayed about the same.

Lanky pulled out a pokeball from the box.

That’s why, I thought to myself. What was I supposed to do? Run away again? I needed a human friend if I wanted to be around humans. And well, I figured pokemon thieves and actual assholes were rare. Lanky was just an incidental asshole. And already a decent friend. He clicked it on his belt. He had three balls on it.

He pulled out another from the box. Four pokeballs.

Just, a friend who…clearly had no idea what he was doing. I clicked my tongue, attention returning to watch the rain and soak in what natural light was there. The teen was talking. The trees and their leaves moved in wavelike motions with the wind, the branches on the right side slightly compressing themselves to the left. A wave of motion passed through. Slight, but even with the storm, either the wind was changing direction, or the storm was softening. The feel of the sun through the clouds and the windows on my leaves was nice.

Lanky continued moving about behind us, the patter of his shoes on the tile. He pulled out a chair to my right, babbling away with his pokedex. He waved his hand in front of my eyes, talking. I could guess what he was saying.

“Hello? Hellooo? Anyone Home? Are you awake?”

I turned my head to look at him. He was holding it out, facing it to me. It was a picture…of…me? No, it was moving. Someone else’s leavanny. A human’s voice said something. It launched a flurry of leaves in three quick motions. Lanky was repeating it. “Razor Leaf,” he’d been saying. Dude. We’re sitting at a table for one, in the kitchen. For two, I didn’t even know if I had any on me. I clicked. This wasn’t the time or the place.

I’d remember the word, at least. Lanky pulled the tablet back and looked at them, then tried to show me some more. Not able to slip back into daydreams, I turned away as he continued searching for what I can only assume were more leavanny videos. I hopped off the seat, legs clacking on the ground with light clicks. I walked to the window on the door. I clicked, turning to Lanky. I could have opened it. But I chose not to. Lanky sat, scrolling through his device. I clicked again. He didn’t respond. Best not to let him think we’re going to be able to do everything independently. That first pokemon fight with the rockruff really taught him wrong. If he assumed all pokemon were as helpful or smart, he’d probably wind up getting hurt.

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I walked over to him. Poked him in the side. He jumped, dropping the tablet on the table. Pokedexes were built to be rugged. Right? Lanky looked at me. “What do you want?” I walked over to the door, clicking again. Swadly, watching what I was doing, hopped down on the floor with a slight splat, mimicking my moves. He wanted outside too.

He stared and talked. I could imagine the kid asking us: “In this rain?”

“Yeah, Lanky. In this rain.”

“But why not open the door yourself”

“Because you need to learn to take care of bugs, not just a human-turned bug. This is probably easy-mode, buggy.”

As always, the words on both sides were just gibberish. But body language hasn’t lied to me yet. Okay, well, it’s lied to me a couple times. He relented, opening it. Swadly and I stepped outside, Lanky made to follow, plastic ruffling as he put on a light poncho. It was going to be tricky. I wasn’t sure how strong the barbs on my arms were, especially in this wind. I clicked as Swadly and I walked to the tree. The lowest branch was still a couple feet higher than me. Water hit my eyes and rolled off it, leaving streaks of slightly warped and magnified vision. Without any eyelids, most droplets repelled, but some smaller ones stayed, magnifying the colors. My pokemon proprioception was leagues above human-me’s though, so it didn’t matter. Instead of climbing, I jumped. Lanky stood by the closed door, watching us from under the edge of the house, even wearing the poncho. The grumpface watched, its mouth open, tasting the rain. I took a taste of my own, and it was fresh, and sweet. Rainwater never tasted this good.

Again, I jumped. But didn’t get high enough to grab the branch. It was about a foot off, though. I took some steps back. And ran, launching at the branch, using the hook on my right arm to grab. The force of the movement, buffeted by wind and gravity, a creak of the branch, I reached up, but could feel the stress at the end as it bent. A creak on the branch, I had almost reached my left arm up. I fell to the ground, staggering. The hook on the right blade was shorn off. I turned to the base of the tree, ran at it and ran up it, water dripping on my face and over my leaves, the tree swaying in the wind, the thunder and lightning having moved on.

I climbed up higher, reached out to grab the leaves, and was buffeted by the breeze. A green blur fell off a branch. A flash of white, a ripple, the rain was gone.

I was standing, the intense heat of the sun on me, mostly blocked by a more refined helmet visor covering my eyes. The sun was out, but the air around was slightly hotter than any summer day. Tasting the smell in the air, Lanky was nearby and anxious as ever. Neither he nor I wanted to be here. I stood on some clay and dirt in a clearing of trees. I heard Lanky’s voice behind me. His hair was longer. Standing behind me, taking a confident pose.

And across from us stood a moth of flame. I clicked in distaste.

What did we get into? Lanky was saying something again. His voice trembled, he was anxious, worried. Wait. The man across from us cough—no, laughed. This was a dream. The heat washed over with each shift in the air. A nightmare.

Lanky walked towards me. He said something, holding his arms in a T. He walked forward, holding a spray bottle. Talking in a soft, quiet voice, he sprayed me. They weren’t tears, but I knew what he wanted. His voice said, “Hope.” His eyes said, “Survive.” Running away? Was I really willing to commit myself this hard? Black head with teal eyes stared me down, my helmet obscuring all but what my face was pointed at.

No. This was just a dream. Wait.

I didn’t want to be here, but running away was simply wrong. Hypnotized once more and tossed into a nightmare. Every instinct said, “Not happenin’,” Sparks drifted off its white fuzz like a flying camper’s marshmallow fare, the black and teal abdomen reflecting the shimmering sparks of flames falling off its red wings, my opponent moth confident in their posture, wiggling with each wavelike flap of their fiery-red wings.

How do I take control of my nightmares? How do I take control of my life?

I stood back up. I had no idea what the kid was saying. “Eeeaaa,” I cried, as I ran at the monstrous moth, more than twice my size. The wave of heat intensified. Steam was rising as the bubbles of water that adorned me boiled off. The moth moved, lumbering about in comparison to my speed. Every breath, my mouth got drier.

To have a dream be the first real test of my armor, even if it seemed more finished here, it felt wrong. I hadn’t even been able to finish it for real. It should work. I tell myself, pulling in a quick swallow of the warming air. And, well. I already knew we were going to lose, but Lanky remained silent as I duked it out.

This is my dream. I can trust my armor.

The waves of heat only spoke of confidence and power. I couldn’t read the tan man who stood behind the flaming moth. The sheer uncaring emanating stronger with each flap of wings burgeoning with blasts of hot air.

They’re trying to tire me out first, if they stall, I’ll probably fall without even getting a hit in.

The heat of the nightmare was highest at the center of the bug. Another command from the trainer, and sparks of fire fell, emitting out in circular waves. I felt the sting as they flowed around, singing my legs. My mouth was parched.

I threw a razor leaf at its face, too slow to dodge, the bug took the hit, and just let it sit, right between the eyes. Ichor flowed, but the scent of fire it emanated didn’t care. Dots of light appeared at each tip of its wings. Hyper beam! If I ran away, it would just snipe me from a distance. I dashed. The light increased in size. I held my jaw. Remaining sparks floated on the ground in residual waves. Spots in my helmet turned dark, denaturing.

Directly underneath it, and the moth moved back. I jumped and slashed up, landing a clean hit right at the bottom of its abdomen. Several simultaneous explosions blasted behind me, pelting me with rocks. The blasts threw me to the side, I rolled on the ground, eating some gravel. I landed and kept running, getting better distance. The hot ichor sizzled into my arm, burning holes in my hardened blade.

One of my antennae stung. Six large pockets of dirt gored the ground, flakes of blue rocks shining in my eyes. Had it melted the dirt and sand into glass? The moth floated in the air. I screamed at the monster that still flew, tossing all of the razor leaves I could at its wings, tearing a few holes through but it held its height, rising up a foot or two higher. The six red wings which proclaimed “death to bugs that dare.” Lanky was behind me, making exaggerated motions and shouting. Short, tight breaths. Too large, and I’d finish drying out. The tan man across from us, hand on one hip standing back, said another word.

Whips and sparks of heat flashed along the ground again, rolling in short waves. The gravel underneath was turning red. A wall of fire laid across the ground, blocking my approach. Just a bug. Two more walls of fire straight from its wings, holding formation, holding me in place. My helmet flew loose in the heat, the detached leaves burning to ash in the air as the helmet continued its degradation. I stepped back, away from the walls of fire. I already knew what would come next.

Six beams of light, one on each tip. I ran at it. I jumped through the flame. Sliced my left arm into its wing, shearing the middle one into quarters. The bug didn’t even scream. The magma-hot ichor burning what was left of my left blade. I pulled my right arm and slashed repeatedly into the bug’s main body. Tumbling to the ground, the nightmare beat its wings, flailing. I was picked up and thrown into gouged ground swallowing dirt and stone. The world had gone mute, and I’d gone blind.

I gasped, water was poured into my mouth, and I was sprayed and picked up. Vision returned, and I fell from the tree, steam sizzling as my extremities cooled.

At least I was awake?